


we move in different circles

by acariad



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acariad/pseuds/acariad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen's life couldn't get more complicated when the Templars attack Haven and someone he hasn't seen in ten years shows up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> basically this is just an AU where amell joins inquisition sorta kinda maybe not really. it'll be short snippets of story here and there, and interactions between cullen and amell will be aplenty. it didn't see to fit into the other story drabble collection i posted so it's a separate one here now :)  
> also if i make any grammatical errors and typos please point them out to me, i don't have a beta reader and more often than not i'm half asleep when i'm typing these xD

He had never thought too much about Leliana’s agents that she sends out into the field. Oh, of course he knew they were around. Occasionally he’d see them, talking with her quietly on the outskirts of town, or ducking out the chantry as quickly and silently as they had arrived. But pay them attention? No. his mind was always on other things.

Never mind that one of the spies always had a staff strapped to their back and face hidden by a hood. Their stance was familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. He knew better to ask Leliana. He could smell the magic radiating from them though, but he had to remind himself that he was no longer a Templar. Apostates aren’t his concern anymore. 

It was the  _here_  and  _now_  that mattered. Templars and rebel mages and holes in the sky where demons pour through and it reminded him a little too much of Kinloch hold. So he focused on what’s real and what’s important. The Inquisition. 

But  _now_  he could taste the magic in the air. It thrummed against his skull making his teeth ache. And over that, the dull roar in the mountains and the legions of Red Templars marching down towards their haven, their town, and he had to swallow the fear when he heard pounding at the gates. 

"We can’t come in unless you open!" a soft voice called, a boy’s voice, and Lavellan (despite her thin frame) helped him heave the doors open. He spies a Templar, dead in a pool of blood and a young man (barely a man really) stepping over his body, his face covered by the brim of a large hat. 

"I’m Cole. We came to warn you, to help, but you have to help her too!" the boy beseeched, and Cullen looked around in confusion. And then he saw her.

Red hair fluttering in the wind, her bright green eyes masking the pain as she stumbled over to them, leaning against the boy for support as she pressed a hand to her side. 

He thought he recognized that stance. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on a familiar (achingly so) face. She looked up and flashed him a look, a look that said ‘not now, we’ll talk about it, but not now’. He made a small mental reminder to throttle Leliana when they got of this. 

"What’s going on?" Lavellan demanded, pointing the bow directly at Amell’s face. Cullen quickly raised a hand and pushed the bow down and gave the elf a warning look.

“This is the Hero of Ferelden,” he muttered, and the elf snorted slightly, but relaxed her weapon. He gestured for the boy to help her inside the town, earning him a thin smile.

"Templars are coming down the mountain," Amell said, wincing as they stumbled back through the doors. "They mean to burn haven to the ground."

"Templars?" Cullen has to believe she’s tell the truth. "Is this the order’s response to us talking to the mages? To attack us blindly?"

"They work for the Elder One," Cole said. "You know him? He knows you. You took his mages." 

Amell shook her head at the confused expressions on their faces. “The Elder One… I can sense him. He is dark spawn.”

 He sighed. The day just got much much worse. Lavellan turns to him and gestures her arms wildly.

"A plan? Cullen, give me something to work with!" 

"Get everyone inside, and get people on the ballistas!"

He needed more time to think. But he couldn’t with her around.

"And go find a healer, tend to her wounds." he turned away, and brought his mind back to the  _now._ He had an army to deal with. A mage who sent his stomach lurching will just have to wait. 


	2. two

He admitted to himself that this wasn’t the sort of reunion that he had hoped for in his mind. After ten years of not thinking about what happened, now he has to think about _what happened._  Not that he had been thinking about this extensively though. It just never occurred to him that when Cassandra was close to throttling the dwarf for not knowing where Hawke was (and he had a nagging suspicion that the dwarf was actually lying), Leliana might’ve been hiding someone as well. 

He was wary as he barked orders to his men - wary of the boy with the large brimmed hat named Cole who felt somehow  _wrong_ , and of Amell, who let a healer knit her side back together and then immediately charged off after Lavellan’s group. Without a single look back. He really shouldn't care about that. And he really shouldn’t be this worried. The Hero of Ferelden and the Warden-Commander hardly needed someone to look after her back.

But maker if he wasn’t gritting his teeth against the urge to pluck her back and scold her for being irresponsible and fool-headed (just like back when they were younger and she’d simply stick out her tongue at him and ignore his warnings).

It really didn’t help that there was a dragon out there as well. But he kept himself in check, kept shouting orders until his voice was hoarse, and managed to somehow get everyone back into the Chantry without major losses. Lavellan’s group soon appeared with Amell trailed behind her, dark shadows under her eyes stark against her pale complexion. She slumped against the wall and the Cole boy was there again, lifting her arm over his shoulder and carrying her over to another healer. Cullen grimaced and turned back to Lavellan, who was eyeing him suspiciously while her gaze flickered between him and Amell. 

"so… the Hero of Ferelden, huh?"

Even an idiot would've understood the implications behind her words. There was a reason he had a hard time thinking of her as 'Herald'. 

Not now," he replied with a frown. 

Lavellan grinned wickedly, showing teeth, before going back to all business, asking about tactics and how to evacuate everyone. It took far too long for them to come up with a risky plan, but it was the best they had and not even Leliana could think of any better. The path the chancellor mentioned could be their only hope. And perhaps he can get everyone to safety, including  _her_. 

Lavellan gave him one last grin, and shook her head. 

"Well, I guess I’ll be dragon bait this time," she sigh dramatically before gesturing to the elf, Cassandra and the tevinter again. They dashed out of the building, leaving Cullen to deal with the mess of guiding everyone through the path.

Amell however, clearly had other ideas than to follow the people to safety. No sooner had he given the order to his soldiers to lead everyone down the path, he spied her out of the corner of his eye, strapping the large staff to her back again. Cullen bit back the fury that bubbled inside him as he stalked towards her. 

Amell seemed to sense his emotions as she straightened up, her eyes determined as she met his angry gaze.

"Is there a problem, Commander?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Cullen gestured to the staff.

"You are not going back out there," he stated firmly. "You need to help me get the villagers to safety. Lavellan and the others can handle this."

Amell snorted. 

"Leaving someone who has no idea what she's getting into to deal with a dragon filled with the taint? I'm far more qualified for this than herding people down a path."

She turned and moved towards the entrance, and Cullen felt a surge of panic and anger sweep over him. 

"But you are in no condition to fight!" he snarled, grabbing her arm violently. "You're going to get killed!"

_It's been ten years and I still don't know who you are, not truly. It's been ten years and you're going to die out there and I can't let that happen._

Amell turned and gave him a cold look, before snatching her arm out of his grip.

"You worry about the town’s people, Commander," she hissed. "I’ll worry about myself."

With a flurry of robes she disappeared out the Chantry doors, and Cullen wondered just how many curse words he could think of that he could yell at her if and  _when_  she came back.


	3. three.

It’s been almost a full day, and Cullen was going crazy. The rest of his soldiers seemed to sense it too, and kept a wide berth around him. All the search parties have come back empty handed, and the hollow feeling inside that threatened to overwhelm him grew larger with each passing hour.

The snow storm had abated at least, and Cassandra was already organizing two more groups to go out and scour the mountainside for the Herald and the Warden-Commander. It would not do to lose two of the most important people in Thedas in one day. It was this thought that lead him to request to come along with Cassanda. The seeker merely raised an eyebrow at him, but agreed that they could use and extra pair of eyes. Cullen knew he needed to get out, to do something. Otherwise he was definitely going to go crazy.

 

-

 

“Look, over there!”

Cullen whipped his head around and stared in the direction the scout was pointing in. He spied them through the haze of snow, two figures struggling in the distance, and relief crashed over him like a tidal wave. _Thank you, Andraste, thank you,_ he chanted repeatedly in his head as he stumbled towards them, Cassandra close behind. Lavellan gave him a crooked smile as he reached them, her thin arms trying desperately to keep Amell out of the bulk of the snow.

“She fainted a few minutes ago,” Lavellan said through chattering teeth, letting Cullen scoop the red head into his arms. “Dumb shem used up all her magic to keep us from turning into icicles.”

Though the words were harsh, Cullen could hear the grudging respect in the elf’s voice. He struggled slightly with his cloak, but managed to drag it off himself and cover the slender figure in his arms. He took a moment to look down at Amell’s pale face. There were dark circles under her eyes that stood out more prominently now against her cold skin, and Cullen traced them with a trembling finger. He remembered the last time he saw her like this - younger, less sure of herself, drained after the harrowing and a solid weight in his arms. He thought she was beautiful then (more beautiful now).

He looked up to see the scouts all pointedly looking elsewhere, and Cassandra pointedly looking straight at him with one eyebrow raised, Lavellan’s arm now slung over her shoulder.

"We should hurry back, they need healers."

He refused to acknowledge the Seeker's gaze and began the trek down the mountain. The rest of the group followed behind, and Cullen pretended that he couldn't hear the whispers that followed

 

-

 

Her head was threatening to split open, her body was aching down to her bones and she hadn't felt this tired since the Battle of Denerim.  She should open her eyes, but she couldn't bring herself to. It was so comfortable, and the blanket was warm and soft and smelt like rather wonderful, like...

She frowned. Her eyes slowly slid open and she looked down to see a mass of fur obscuring her vision. Slowly, wincing with every movement, Amell pushed herself up from the cot. The fur fell away to reveal a rich red cloak with golden embroidery, and she knew immediately whose cloak it was. She looked up out of her makeshift tent that she had been placed in and she spied him in the distance, arguing with the Seeker and Leliana. Despite it being a new addition, he certainly looked odd without the fur lining his shoulders, and the fact that the templar insignia was nowhere to be found on his armour was also strange. Amell cocked her head as she gazed at the man she used to know a lifetime ago, and after a moment smiled slightly.

She settled back down into the cot and wrapped the cloak around herself, burying her face into the surprisingly soft fur. She'll deal with things later. For now, sleep seemed like a good idea. 


	4. four.

The repairs were well underway around Skyhold, and for the first time in a month Cullen had a spare moment to himself. He found himself walking around the ramparts, gazing down at the bustle of the main courtyard. It felt like the Maker had granted them a miracle when they found the fortress. It seemed that Solas, despite Cullen’s initial misgivings, proved to be useful after all. He ambled along the wall, nodding to the soldiers posted around the place as he passed them. If he had to be honest with himself, he was having trouble with finding things to do with this spare time. Perhaps he should find a way to fix that hole in his ceiling...

He turned the corner and stopped in his tracks. Amell was leaning against the wall, gazing out over the ramparts, her hair blowing gently in the breeze.

He hesitated. There hadn’t been much chance for conversation, not since they found this place. Each time he saw her in the past few weeks, she had either been with Leliana, talking for hours at a time, or simply not in Skyhold. When he asked spymaster about the whereabouts of Amell, all he got was a sidelong glance and a smirk.

“My dear Commander,” Leliana would giggle. “You _really_ need to learn some subtlety.”

He stopped asking after that.

Beyond that, he simply had no idea _how_ to start a conversation with her. The last proper conversation they had was almost a decade ago and that was a memory he'd rather not revisit. At least the nightmares have stopped since then. He winced a little turned to head back to his office. Perhaps he could find something else to fill his time up.

“Cullen,” her voice stopped him, and he turned around again slowly. She was still facing away from him, but it was clear that she meant for him to join her. 

“It’s okay,” she said gently. “I’m not going to bite.”

There was some hesitation in his movements, but none the less he settled himself next to her. They stood silently, watching the people rush about below them. 

"I don't think I ever thanked you for saving me and the Inquisitor," she murmured after a while, her fingers tracing the edge of the wall absently. "I doubt we would've lasted more than a few more minutes without your help."

"It... it's no trouble," he said. "It was Cassandra's efforts mostly."

"Still, I wanted to say thank you," Amell turned to him and placed a hand on his. He stared at it. "I know it's been a long time since we've talked, but I would like to get to know you again."

He managed to pull his gaze away from where her slender fingers were resting on his, and glanced up. There was hopeful smile on her face, and somehow that seemed so foreign a concept. When was the last time he saw her smile? Before her Harrowing? There were none after, not real ones. And there were no smiles in the Tower when she came and saved them all. He took this moment to look at her. There were lines now, he noticed, as well as a few scars. Not many, but they were there, a reminder of how much time has passed for both of them. They were both so young back then.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

"O-of course, I would... like that too," he replied, tripping over his tongue, trying to not seem too tense - although he was probably failing. Amell's mouth quirked up at the corner. Yep. Definitely failing. 

"You're stuttering again," she murmured with a small grin. "I remember when I genuinely thought that was how you talked, until Jowan pointed out that you never stuttered around anyone else. It was rather flattering, Commander."

Cullen felt his face heat up. He could just be imagining things, but was she... flirting with him? Gods, he's not ready for this. What was one supposed to say in this situation? 

As if sensing his panic, Amell gave small laugh and patted his hand before finally moving away. Cullen felt like he could finally breathe again. 

"I'll find you when I have some free time," she promised as she began walking towards Solas' room. He nodded in response, not trusting his voice. 

“Oh, by the way? Keep an eye out for Blackwall, would you?” Amell called back at him. Cullen raised an eyebrow and glanced towards the stable. The man in question was leaning against the stable wall, absently carving a small block of wood in his hands. 

He turned to ask why, but she had already disappeared into the Hold at this point. Cullen sighed and started walking back to his rooms. He needed a drink. And a large one at that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry for how late this is. it's been a year (kill me now)


	5. five.

_Trust me. It’s complicated._

Never mind Cassandra. Cullen was going to throttle Varric as soon as he finds him. As if he doesn’t have enough on his mind right now. It’s been getting harder to think lately, as the last lyrium draft he had taken was months and months ago. Between the killer headaches, the rumoured assassination on Celene and Samson leading the Templars, all he wanted is to sleep. For a few months.

And of all the people in the world that could show up, it just had to be _Hawke_. This was just the cherry on top of the collapsing icing. Still, it would be rude to ignore her. So they talked as they stood outside on the battlements. About the Inquisition, and Kirkwall. She briefed him on why she’s tangled up in this mess, which is about the most unsurprising thing he’s ever heard. Of course she’s involved. Hawke brought disaster with her wherever she stepped. At least she doesn’t have that blonde mage Anders with her this time.  

And of course (and he had been dreading this moment), her gaze flickered down to the square where Amell and the Inquisitor were talking.

“So,” Hawke drawled, staring at Cullen with what can only be described as a shit-eating grin on her face. The woman was a nightmare, truly.

“I finally had the pleasure of meeting my _cousin_. She is rather captivating, is she not?”

Cullen sighed and pressed his hand to his temples. Maker preserve him.

“Do we really need to have this conversation now?” he growled, but he couldn’t help glance down towards the entrance to the main hall, where Amell was now waving her arms in the air violently and the Inquisitor shaking her head and crossing her arms equally violently. No doubt arguing over whether or not she was going with them.

“Oh yes, we do,” Hawke snickered as she followed his gaze. “Don’t you think I’ve forgotten. ‘She was a special woman! Never met the likes of her again!’”

“I hate you,” Cullen muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry Commander, I didn’t quite catch that! Care to repeat it?”

“Yes yes, all right,” he snapped. “What do you want me to say? My opinions of her have not changed since you last asked.”

There was a pause.

“You really care about her, huh?” There was a hint of disbelief in Hawke’s voice that he found highly irritating. That decided it then. He was going to murder Hawke, and then find Varric, and murder him too. Maybe he’ll finally get some peace and quiet. And maybe he’ll finally get to talk to Amell properly for once without people prying left and right.

“You do realise she’s going to come with us, right?” Hawke continued, more seriously this time. “I certainly can’t stop her. And the Wardens need her help right now, especially if the reports are true. I’m sure she’s already received letters from the other Wardens.”

“I know,” Cullen sighed, “but she is the Warden-Commander of Ferelden. She does what she wants.”

“And what do you want, Commander?”

Cullen hesitated.

“It’s not important. What is important is stopping Corypheus. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

Hawke snorted.

“Maker’s breath, you need to lighten up once in a while. I have no idea what she sees in you, because I certainly can’t see past that three mile long stick up your arse…”

"I do _not_ \- "

He stopped with a frown. His brain took a moment to process the sentence before it went into overdrive.

“Wait… what did you just say? About Amell?”

“Oh nothing,” Hawke waved a hand casually. “Nothing at all!”

"She said something about me? What did she say?" he pressed. He refused to acknowledge that he probably sound like a desperate lovesick boy.

"Commander, surely you're not suggesting that at a critical time like this, we'd be gossiping about you now? Really! You wound me!" Hawke pressed her hand to her chest dramatically.

" _Hawke_..." he warned. She grinned at the look on his face and began backing away.

“Oh, is that Varric’s voice I hear! I’m afraid I must be off! I’ll bring you back a souvenir after we kill Corypheus!”

And just like that, the woman was gone.

Cullen pressed his hands to his face.

Varric was so dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you guys want to see more of! i would love to hear your feedback and suggestions ;)


	6. six.

Cullen hesitated before pushing open the door to the tavern. Amell’s note asked him to meet her here, and he still wasn’t sure if he believed the note to actually be from her and not some ridiculous prank set up by Sera or the Inquisitor. Still, It had been almost a month since their last conversation, and she and Hawke have been flitting about Skyhold and then disappearing for days at a time. They were getting closer to tracking down the Wardens, and the reports he had received from both Hawke and the Inquisitor have been troubling. He wanted to see her again.

Relief flooded through him when he quickly spied her form seated in a small table in the corner of the room, a tankard already in her hand. Ignoring the looks of surprise on the many faces of his soldiers scattered around the place, he quickly strode over to where Amell was seated. She was slouched slightly in her chair, the dark bags prominent under her eyes. Still, she raised her head as he approached, and her mouth quirked up into a smile.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going so show up Commander,” Amell said, gesturing to the seat next to her. “I’ve heard that dragging you away from your tower was impossible. It seems that Dorian owes me money.”   

Cullen chuckled sheepishly and scratched his neck.

“Yes well, he’s not wrong on that account.” He sat himself down beside her, and ordered a pint for himself as well from the barmaid that walked up to their table.

“I’m, ah… I’m glad you invited me here tonight,” He said awkwardly. Amell shook her head.

“It’s fine, Cullen. I wanted to have a chance to talk to you again. It’s been a rough month.”

“Indeed it has.”

They fell silent for a moment, and Cullen tried to think of something to say. As always, his mouth and brain seemed to fail him around her, so he glanced at the bar, hoping his drink would come. It seemed that today Amell was less talkative than usual. Not that she was chatty. She’d always been rather quiet, even when they were young. He tried to not think about the Tower. Some days it felt like he was over it. Other days... he shook his head.  _It must be the Calling_ , Cullen thought grimly as he gazed at her. He doubted he could sleep well if he could believe the reports he had read.    

“Are you… I mean, you look tired,” Cullen said tentatively as his drink finally came. “Do you want to go get some rest?”

Amell looked at him with a snort and shook her head.

“Why do you think I’m here?” She asked with a small laugh. “Can’t sleep. I have those bloody nightmares every time I close my eyes. Figured if I could knock myself out with alcohol it might do the trick, but nothing’s happening so far.”

Cullen winced in sympathy. He knew what it was like, those sleepless nights. It's been a while since he's had lyrium and he can't remember what a full night's sleep felt like. Still, he had other things to keep his mind occupied. 

“You know what? The nightmares, the darkspwan, those aren’t even the worst things about being a Grey Warden. You want to know the worst?” she asked, staring at her tankard. Cullen lifted an eyebrow. Amell looked at him sadly.

“It’s _really_ hard to get drunk. I’m on my tenth drink.”

Cullen blinked, and before he realised it, he had burst out laughing. There was something ridiculous about the scene he just couldn’t help himself. Amell looked rather startled at first, but slowly she smiled and broke down into giggles. Neither noticed the rest of the tavern’s noise dying down, with most soldiers staring at their Commander like he had grown an extra head.

“Well then,” Cullen said through the chuckles, “I might have a solution to your problem. Perhaps this is a good time to see how much alcohol you can _really_ handle.”

Amell raised an eyebrow, and then grinned toothily at him.

“Is that a challenge, Commander? I’ll have you know I’ve drunk men twice my size under the table before.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he replied, and lifted his tankard to his mouth and drained it in one go. Amell giggled and shook her head, her eyes dancing.

“Oh, you are _on_.”

 

-

 

He can't remember how many drinks he must have had. A dozen? Maybe more? They talked. Not about the past though. No, can't deal with that yet. But they talked. For a while it seemed, most of the tavern had emptied out by now. Amell was red in the cheeks, and Cullen was pretty sure it was her twentieth drink that night, if he was counting correctly. Was he? Did he count right?  Doesn't matter. Amell's eyes were so bright though. Green and bright, and by Andraste she was _gorgeous_. Cullen couldn't remember when her cheeks have been so red.  

Amell laughed and stood up with a slight wobble. 

"Why Cullen, I do believe you have succeeded in getting me tipsy," she grinned. Cullen just laughed. He must be really drunk. Was his laugh too loud? He couldn't tell. 

"Now, I think it's time to get you to bed," Amell moved over to his side and lifted his arm over her shoulder. "Up you get now, Commander. Wouldn't want you falling over in front of your men."

He got up, with some difficulty, and _oh_... the world was spinning. He looked down and saw a mass of red hair that shined in the candlelight.  

She must have dragged him, although was she really that strong? He was in his bed now. And his eyelids were heavy.

"You're beautiful," he murmured before blacking out. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been sitting on my computer for much longer than i care to admit. i hope it makes up for the time between this and the last chapter D:


End file.
